Malevolent
by OakPrincess
Summary: Four kids struggle to destroy the cruel worlds the live in, by any means necessary. Mafia Au. (Hiatus)
1. Chapter 1:Allen Walker

**Hello, just some things you might want to know before reading this fanfic. First of all this is my first time publishing any of my works and I need as much feedback and motivation as possible. I beg you for both advise on how to better my writing and story and criticism as well. Please only constructive criticism, I'm new to writing and mentally weak.**

 **Next, a little info on Allen's past.**

 **So, I was trying to make his past as accurate to the original D. Gray Man as possible, but without all the supernatural, replacing it with the mafia. This is what I came up with: Neah is not the Allen's uncle, nor does he inhabit his body, rather he is Allen's biological father, and Allen just happened to inherit a lot of traits from him. Neah didn't like the mafia so he quit, damaging the _Noah Clan_ quite a bit in the process (The Noah Clan is the most powerful mafia). Neah died, leaving a little Allen all alone (his mother had already passed). Because of Allen's deformed arm no one wanted to adopt him, he lived by eating the scraps of food people either left around or "charitably" gave to him. That was until he met Mana. Mana is still the Millennium Earl. What happened was that after Neah's death he grew extremely depressed and ceased all Noah Clan activity, trying to forget every thing that had to do with Neah. Ironically he then met with Allen, felt compassion for him, and adopted him (he didn't know that Neah had any children). However, several short years later, Mana was discovered and attacked. He was nearly killed by the encounter, and lost all of his memories as a result. Poor Allen witnessed the latter bit of the attack believed that his father had died. Allen charged in without thinking, obviously not succeeding, and received the scar over his right eye (sadly there is no pentagon, I couldn't figure out how to make that work). Allen was then taken in by Cross. Cross was originally a member of the Black Order Mafia but defected (more like disappeared) after Neah's death. Cross was a close friend of Neah's and was trusted with his dying will: _train his son and make him suitable for the title of Noah Clan boss._ Cross followed through with the request, training Allen with the gun, sword, and especially hand to hand combat. He also taught him to play the piano, a hobby which Neah had greatly enjoyed. Three years later, when Allen was fifteen, he presented him to the Noah Clan and introduced him as Neah's son and the rightful heir to the Clan. He also gave Neah's will and a DNA testing as proof. The Earl was slightly hesitant to accept Allen and constantly tested him (keep in mind that neither of them remember each other). Allen immediately impressed the Earl, not because of who _Allen_ was, but by how much he resembled Neah. The Earl then commanded him to attend important meetings, and gave him council that if he had any ideas he _must_ share them. This was to see exactly how close he was to Neah in cleverness.  
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 **Wow, that was long. Anyway, I understand that there is probably room for improvement in his backstory, please tell me if anyone has any better ideas and I'll see if I can make them work.**

 **Lastly, you need to understand mafia ranking. At the top there is the boss, who is in the case of the Noah Clan the Millennium Earl (by the way that's just his code name). Next there is the** **consigliere, who is basically an advisor to the boss, that's Lero. Then there's the Underboss, who takes care of business for the boss when he cannot, and will also become the next boss when the current one dies. There currently no Underboss in the Noah Clan, and the Earl hasn't yet accepted Allen. Next are the Caporegime, capo for short, who are like captains. Those are the 13 Noah's. After them are soldiers, who are, you guessed it, the Akuma. Then there are the associates, who are like the name entails, just people who help them to get money but aren't actually members. Those guys will come into play later.**

 **Thank for reading, I hope you enjoy it.**

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Chapter 1 : Allen Walker

Allen grimly watched the nervous and guilty eyes of the 13 Noah Capos shift uncomfortably under his gaze. He said nothing, letting his gray eyes bare into them, he knew that was all they needed to let them know exactly how big their failure was. He tapped his finger on the armrest of his chair, anticipating the soon to come lecture.

Right on time, the Millennium Earl entered his office where they sat, just as angry as Allen had expected. He was followed by an equally disappointed Lero, the Earl's consigliere. The boss took his seat at his exquisite desk, resting his stubbled chin on balled fists. "What is the meaning of this?" He asked, voice deeper than usual.

The Capos bit their lips fearfully, hesitant to admit their mistake. "We're sorry sir," Sherrill admitted. "We didn't expect this development. It seems the Black Order was more competent than we believed."

The Earl growled, Allen knew how angry the he must have been. He had tried so hard to protect that territory, only to find that it was captured by Black Order Exorcists. The Earl needed someone to blame, so he chose his Capos. It was the fault of their own incompetence anyway. "So what are you going to do about it?" The Earl continued, poorly attempting to mask his fury.

"Of course, we'll get it back, no matter what!" Jasdero and Devit cried in unison.

The Earl narrowed his brows. " Oh really? How are you going to do that?"

"Um..." The twins thought out loud. "We're stronger than they are. Well just fight them head on."

The Earl's yellow eyes bored into the foolish duo. "Oh, and we saw how well that worked when you lost my territory in the first place."

They jumped up in their chairs and squeaked in terror. "We're sorry sir."

The boss sighed, "Who has any better ideas?"

Silence lingered over the room for a few moments before Tyki calmly replied, "The Black Order has less members than we do, and most of them aren't actually that strong, only the Exorcists and a few of the Crows are worth anything." The Earl and Road nodded in agreement. "The problem is their technology, we don't what they can do. We can't just rush in, that would put us at a huge disadvantage. Our only option is to find out what they have. That leads us to the real question, how?"

The room quieted again, the Capos either thinking or simply waiting for someone else to respond. Allen swallowed fearfully, and spoke "There are two options I can think of. One, is we launch a sneak attack on them. Right now the territory is fresh and more vulnerable. However, I'm sure they're already suspecting something along those lines, and it's likely they will have some sort of extra precautions in place. The second is that we simply let them be." Most of the Noah capos stared at him, confused yet intrigued by his proposal, only Tyki, Wisely, and the Earl hummed in sudden understanding. Allen continued, "right now the Black Order has just successfully captured one of our most powerful and beloved territories. What do you think they're doing?"

"They'd be drinking and celebrating of course," Lulubell responded almost immediately.

"Really?" Allen asked provocatively.

"No," Wisely interjected, playing with his thumbs. "They'd be reinforcing it and making sure that we can't get it back."

"Exactly. It's unlikely that we'd be able to get it back without severe consequences."

The Earl's angry energy suddenly returned, remembering how big of a deal their loss was. The room grew steadily more uncomfortable for the capos. If Allen didn't feel it as well he'd probably laugh at them.

Allen cleared his throat, "right now the enemy is focused on making sure that we can't get back our land, leaving their own land almost completely unguarded, making this a perfect chance for us to steal what they have."

Road's eyes glistened with excitement. "So basically this is a bigger opportunity for success than it was a loss for us, isn't it."

Allen nodded hesitantly. "Yes, but it would've been better if you hadn't lost it in the first place." Road nodded guiltily.

The Earl thought in silence for a moment before standing up, drawing everyone's attention. "We'll go through Allen-kun's suggestion." He spoke. "I'm giving you all a new job, capture new territories from the Black Order." The Earl's voice became grim and threatening again, "don't you dare mess up this one." They all sweat-dropped. "Now, I'm not forgiving you for your failure, not until you make it up to me. Got it."

"Yes, sir," they said in unison.

The Millennium Earl signaled for them to leave his office, and Allen stood up to follow when the Earl gestured for him to remain seated. Allen complied, perplexed by what his boss wanted.

"Allen-kun," the Earl began when everyone had left. "I'm constantly amazed by your success and prowess since you brought here by Cross." The Earl nearly growled Allen's master's name. He couldn't blame him, Cross wasn't really the best of guys out there.

The Earl's features softened. "I'm ready to accept you as the Underboss, and heir to the Noah Clan."

Allen's eyes widened in surprise and horror. He never wanted to be to be part of the mafia, he had just been dumped here by Cross -curse the man's name- under the pretense that he was the son of Neah, the previous Underboss of the Noah Clan. He hated the mafia. They were cruel and selfish, stealing from and killing the innocent for their own gain. He could hardly withstand the agony of being a mere member, but to lead them. Allen though t he might cry.

"Do you accept?" The Earl continued.

Allen wanted desperately to deny the offer and spit in the man's face, but he knew that the best way to achieve his goal was to gain a higher rank, and in this case the status as Underboss. So hesitantly he swallowed his pride and spoke, his voice quieter than he had expected. "I accept."

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 **The next chapter is longer, I promise. Please review for my sake and yours, and feel free to give me any idea's on how to make the story better. Thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2:Lenalee Lee

Chapter 2: Lenalee Lee

Lenalee fiddled with the gun her hand, feeling its smooth cold texture. The gun smelt sharply metallic, reminding her trained senses of blood. She inhaled slowly and mechanically, the trick she always used to make her body devoid of emotion. She didn't feel, she couldn't let herself. If she did she was certain she would break.

A sharp static entered through her ear, it hurt slightly but she didn't flinch. "Butterfly," a dark voice spoke. "It's time." She nodded, though she knew nobody would see, and stepped onto the ledge of the tall office building. She exhaled and jumped.

The wind rushed at her face, cold air slapping at her exposed skin. She was free falling. The ground grew closer and closer. But she wasn't afraid, she trusted she would succeed.

A sudden lurch from the ropes slowed her fall indicated to Lenalee that she was nearing her destination. Turning her hand to adjust her fall, she sped quickly to the left of the building, and turning it once more she rushed towards the glass windows. She shot the glass multiple times in the same spot before bursting through with her strong legs.

Glass shattered and broke, shards cutting through her pale flesh. She ignored the sharp pain and focused her intense gaze on her target. The target-who had been sitting at his desk- panicked at her sudden intrusion. His mouth opened wide threatening a scream as terrified sweat poured rapidly down his chubby cheeks, but she gave him no chance cry. A single bullet, that's all it took.

Her target fell, dead, on top of the papers that littered his desk. Dark blood soaked through the pages and fell sloppily onto the floor.

Mission accomplished.

She looked away from the scene and once more jumped from the building, again feeling the shrill air fill her lungs as she fell to the earth. She drew threateningly close to the hard earth, but the resistance from the ropes quickly slowed her descent. She shifted her position making her feet point to the floor. She landing softly, quickly undoing her harness. She gave the rope a hard tug causing it to fly back up to the machine on the roof. The finders would take care of her abandoned equipment. Right now there was no time to waste. Desperately she shot off.

Her legs were like lightning. They were the reason she had even survived this long in her line of business. No one could see her, much less catch her.

She turned the corner, noticing a black car parked on the curb. A light flashed two times from inside the vehicle, proving himself an ally. She ran up to it opening the door and trusting herself inside. Her driver speed off as soon as she entered, not waiting for her to finish shutting the door.

Lenalee buckled herself, hissing in pain when the flat leather prodded at one of her wounds. "A medical kit," she demanded from the driver. "Do you have one?" He nodded and pulled out a small box from the glove compartment.

"Here," he outstretched his arm.

She silently took it from him, and began to treat her numerous cuts. Her process was fast yet thorough. She was far to used to tending to her own injuries, it wasn't as if she could go to a hospital, it was far too risky.

Her trained hands finished the job before they reached the outskirts of town. Noticing that it wasn't too long before they reached the base, she straightened her dress and put her gun in the holster hidden beneath her short skirt. She exhaled and forced herself to smile. Slowly she let her emotions return, forgetting the crime she had just committed. She couldn't let Komui see just how broken she really was.

Soon the driver pulled up to the the Black Order's main base, The European Branch. She stepped out of the vehicle and made her was to the front doors. The branch was a dark building, resembling a haunted mansion more than a mafia base. It was well hidden and far from the thick of civilization. She grinned bitterly. The only reason this mansion was the main base was because it was where all of the Order's strongest fighters' - the Exorcists -homes, or rooms, resided.

None of the Exorcists spent much time in their 'homes', only returning to sleep, and most of the time not even that often. The Black Order Capos- they called them Generals - had it worse though. They were to busy to return, coming only when they had a meeting to attend to.

She let out a hopeless sigh. Her eyes contradicted the sound, the nearly violet orbs burning with passion. The Order was hell. No matter what rank a person attained they were still but slaves to the Vatican - the Order's leaders-. One day, she swore, opening the large double doors. This place will burn, and Komui and I will be free.

Lenalee's fierce gaze dispersed at the sight of her brother. He sat, expectantly tapping his slippered foot on the marble floor, on the couch at the end of the short hall. His eyes picked up and beamed joyfully as she drew closer to his tall form.

"Lenalee!" He cried, glomping her in a tight embrace. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she smiled. It was the response she always gave.

Just then Komui noticed the scattered bandages on her pale skin. His dark eyes widened in horror, frantic tears rising up. "What happened? My poor Lenalee!" He hugged her tighter, making it difficult to breath.

"If really fine," she squeaked out. "They're just scratches." Her brother ignored her, crying into her shoulder.

She smiled, her brother could be really childish sometimes, but he was genuine. He was pure, truly loving her with everything he had. She couldn't get mad at him.

"Komui, I can't breath," she muttered.

Hesitantly he let her go. "Are you really okay?" He asked again.

She nodded, "they really are just scratches." He didn't look like he believed her, but let it slide. "I need to get changed."

He nodded and smiled poignantly. "Yeah, get into something more comfortable. You've had a long day."

"Thanks Nii-san." She brushed past him, waving to him as she went, making sure to smile back for him to see.

She smirked, realizing how much lighter her damaged heart already felt. Her brother made all her fears disappear as if they never existed. She constantly longed to be with him, and she prayed for their freedom. She smiled sadly, wiping away the tears that suddenly rose in her eyes. She was the reason he was trapped here, yet she couldn't do anything to repay him for his sacrifice.

Lenalee entered her room, taking in its familiar beauty. Decorated with blacks and dark greens, the room was fairly empty. The only furniture was a small twin bed, a tall wardrobe and a single mirror. She liked it this way, wanting to leave as little attachment to the place as possible.

She took of her her dress, throwing it on her bed, and changed into a comfortable shirt and sweatpants.

She looked in her mirror. Her hair was a mess, having been tossed and wiped by rapid winds. And she didn't look good, heavy bags under her eyes reminding her of just how stressed she really was. She bit her chapped lip, knowing that Komui was aware. He just didn't say anything, because he understood the pain all too well.

Komui was the European branch's head scientist and an innovative genius. The Vatican constantly overwhelmed him and the rest of the scientists with projects and demands. The scientists didn't even have time to sleep. She cursed the Black Order. They purposefully made it so that they couldn't think of anything but their responsibilities.

The Vatican - she swore under her breath - were lazy, evil bastards, who did nothing but plot their despicable schemes and order that they be carried out by their soldiers, or should she say weapons. To them no one was human, only tools waiting to be used. Lenalee and her brother were just another pair of plastic utensils made to be used and thrown away without any second thought.

The Black Order wasn't like most mafias. They didn't desire money or land, nor did they care to be notorious. They stayed silent in the shadows as they slowly built up their influence in the world. She shivered, fearing what they might accomplish.

What the Order craved was power and they did anything to achieve it. Anything. Thus they focused most of their attention on the mysteries of science, obtaining strength beyond her imagination. And her knowledge too. They kept their technology secret from even the Generals.

Lenalee quieted the angry thoughts and left the room, hoping to get a snack to calm her mind. Plus, it already was well past 3:00 am, and she haddn't eaten since lunch.

She slipped through the black and gloomy halls of the European Branch. Scattered images of burdened and terrified men were the only decor within them. Cristal lights that would have illuminated the alleys - if they were on- were covered in dust and spiderwebs. The whole place would horrify any visitor. However, Lenalee was used to the haunted appearance, none of it frightening her anymore. What scared her was the energy. Even without the images and uncared for look she was sure the feeling of evil would still remain. Of course, that unpleasant sensation might have been only the result of her own animosity.

The kitchen was nearly pitch black and it was empty. She frowned for no reason and flipped on the lights. The sudden brightness blinded her, damaging her eyes. Slowly yet surely she adjusted though, heading to the fridge to check for anything to eat. She frowned, noting that most of the contents were vegetables and uncooked meats. Hesitantly, she took out a carrot, peeling it before taking a large bite. It was hardly a meal but she found herself feeling satisfied despite, eating two more carrots and a peach before retreating from the room -she cleaned up first, Jerry, the cook, was meticulous- .

Just as she left the room Jerry -speak of the devil- entered with his small crew of chefs. His eyes widened in curious surprise. "Lena-chan?"

She smiled sweetly. "Sorry for intruding your kitchen," she apologized, knowing that the motherly man wouldn't mind.

"Oh, no," a light blush colored his cheeks. "Sweetheart it's fine," She grinned, she knew he'd understand. "Were you hungry?" He asked, looking to the fridge.

She nodded. "Mhm, but I ate some carrots and a peach so I'm good."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure, child? Is that enough? I can make you something else."

She shook her head. "No really, I'm full."

"Alright then." His voice was still filled with concern.

Lenalee thanked the man before starting to return to her room. She stopped suddenly, turning back to face Jerry. "Do you need help with anything?" She asked. She had taken his food, it was the least she could for him.

"Eh, don't worry about it love. You've had a busy day."

"It's fine. I can just sleep in."

"No, darling. You really need to get some rest. Your job is really stressful." His voice softened at the last statement, as if he was pondering something sadly.

She hesitated but nodded. "I guess so... But are you sure? I might not be able to cook like you, but I can clean."

He shook his head, long braids swaying as he did so. "I'm good." He gestured to his chiefs, "we've done this every day before this. We'll be fine even without your help, so go get some sleep."

"Thanks, Jerry. Good luck."

He grinned lovingly. "Sleep well." She left the kitchen, heading back up to her lonely abode.

When she was younger - and even now - she did everything she could to avoid thinking of the Order as home. It was only when she was moved to the European Branch was that ideal shattered. The people there were all like Jerry, they were kind, understanding, and eccentric. They, like Komui, had managed to distract her from the terror of her world, saving her from madness. She was thankful that even though He had still forced her live in this hell, God gave her saviors.

But what would she give to be free.

She slunk into her bedroom, plopping down on her comfortable mattress. She let herself lament for a moment, before reaching down under her bed to grab the small piece of paper she had ripped out of an abandoned magazine. There was no picture or design, only four bold orange words: Back to School Sale.

Tears suddenly filled her eyes and streamed down her face and splattering on her gray sweats. Her hands trembled slightly as she whispered, "I just want to be normal."

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 **I listened to _Control by Halsey_ the whole time I wrote this.**

 **Thanks for reading, remember to review.**


	3. Chapter 3: Kanda Yuu

Chapter 3: Kanda Yuu

"Fuckin Come on, Daisya!" Kanda shouted, clenching his fist furiously. His heart burned frantically with the desire to punch something -preferably Daisya's annoying nose. He was so fed up with the stupid little fuck and everything he did. This was the 16th time he was going to make them late. The 16th TIME

"Hold on 'lil 'bro," Daisya began in his aggravating nasal voice. "I've got to finish this race first." He turned his body sharply to the right as he moved his Mario Kart figure. Kanda grunted angrily, as if the extra movement would help.

"No. Fuckin. Way. I'll cut you with mugen," he growled. He walked over to the still gaming Daisya, reached over the couch and plucked the black controller from him, tossing it down the hall. He heard a loud 'crack' as the device landed brutally on the hard wooden floor. The damned thing probably broke.

Daisya made a desperate wailing - or moaning- sound. "Kanda! How could you do that?!"

The nineteen year old put his hands to the sides of his head and screamed before pointing down the hall to the clearly destroyed controller. "Do you know what you just did?!" The boy shouted. "Do you know how much that was WORTH?!"

He snorted. However much the damned thing was it wasn't worth wasting his time.

"It was a rare model! A RARE MODEL!" The boy was exasperated, hands moving frantically for emphasis.

"Who cares. Let's go." Kanda stated, annoyed by the whole situation, and not at all guilty. The stupid piece of shit deserved it.

"WHO CARES?! I CARE! That was mine!"

Kanda scowled and walked back towards the door, flicking his hair in irritation as he went. "Don't go you bastard!" Daisya continued. "This isn't finished." Kanda ignored him, opening the door and tossing Daisya his smelly shoes, of which the idiot shit caught.

He followed Kanda through the door without putting them on. "Wait, Kanda!" Kanda continued to ignore him, pushing the buttons on his car keys to both turn it on and unlock it. He opened the door to the driver's seat and threw himself inside. "Kanda!" Daisya shouted again, running to the car. "Yuu!"

Kanda froze mid shutting his door. He looked up at Daisya, letting his icy blue glare tear through the angry boy. "Don't you dare call me that. I'll kill you the next time you do."

Daisya swallowed, adam's apple bobbing. The boy nodded and silently entered the passenger seat. He loved to tease Kanda, annoying him to know end. But the idiot wasn't entirely stupid, he at least knew when to stop.

"Shouldn't I drive?" Daisya had the gall to say. Kanda took back his previous statement, the tiny piece of shit was foolish to the bone.

He simply glared at the older male, letting his eyes give the answer. Apparently the boy understood, immediately growing silent in response.

Kanda started the car and pulled out of the driveway. He checked the clock in the car: 7:42 am. "Damn," he swore. They were going to be late. "This all your fault, Daisya. Remember that." he growled.

The subject of his fury began to tremble, bitterly recalling the last time they had sluffed. Marie had trapped the two of them in a room together the entire night. The shit barely escaped with his life.

Kanda drove as quickly as he could, slimly avoiding multiple crashes. The stupid passenger looked carsick. He had always complained about Kanda's driving. Not that he cared. Sometimes he did it just so that he could see the little bastard suffer.

Despite his speedy driving the duo still managed to arrive five minutes late. He cursed having been adopted into the same family as Daisya, slamming the car door shut as he slung his overweight backpack over his shoulder. He walked to the building, making note to plug his nose before he entered.

Montal High was like any other high school. Terribly decorated and filled with signs and advertisements about 'school pride', ' saying no to drugs', 'stop bullying', and clubs. Teachers were mediocre, none of them -except a couple damn naive ones- giving two shits about any of their students.

The students were the worst of them all, he thought as he passed a few of them, out of class and hanging out in the halls trying - and failing- to hide the weed they were smoking or playing on their phones. A few couples were scattered here and there, making out in fucking public. He scowled, wanting to wash his mouth.

He hated high school, every damn thing about it. He figured he do better in life if he dropped out and taught his own fucking self. But the damn government required teenagers to be there like the bitches they were. He supposed that maybe he didn't have to, since he wasn't supposed to exist in the first place, but Tiedoll wanted him to go. "To experience a normal life," he said. "You'll enjoy it," he said. Well damn that artistic fool to hell. School was nothing but a thorn up his ass.

He threw the door to his classroom open and moved over to his desk. His seat was the second to the right in the front row. He despised the seat, only there because of the shitty seating arrangement. If high school kids weren't such asses he might have been able to have some freedom in the place. But then again he wasn't such a saint himself. He might even be worse than the rest of the goddamn student body, though in a different way.

"Well, now, who might you be?" An unfamiliar voice asked. Kanda looked up taking in the woman's features.

She was tall and far to thin, like a stick. She wore too much mascara over her brown eyes, which twinkled, corresponding with the too wide smile on her lips. He frowned, it looked like she wanted to be there. Great, he got a naive sub, he hated those more than the apathetic ones.

"Kanda," he muttered as he bent over to grab a sketchbook and pencil from his bag.

The woman beamed and held out a bony hand for him to shake, "my name's' Ms. Henderson, but you can call me Macy." He ignored her and focused on scribbling on his page. Ms. Henderson lips turned slightly downwards by his reaction but quickly reformed her fake smile. "We were just playing a get to know you game since I'll be here for a while." He grunted. "We just finished Lucy's turn, why don't you go now."

Kanda's head shot up from his drawing, and he glared bullets into her. No way was he playing that godforsaken game.

The woman flinched slightly, but didn't withdrawal. "Please tell us your full name, favorite color, and favorite activity." He continued to glare at her, refusing to follow through with her request. He'd sooner kill himself - or her - than act like some sort of fool. Hell no.

The room lingered in silence for a few moments before he heard a much too familiar voice sound from a couple seats behind him. "That girly bastard's name is Kanda. Bastard doesn't eat. And his favorite activity is acting like a bitch."

"Woah, now. Let's not bully each other," Miss Henderson returned with false concern.

The boy scoffed, several other voices joining him in his displeasure.

"Don't defend him, Ms. Macy," a girl interjected. "He really is a bitch. He probably doesn't even care that we're calling him one anyway." She was right, he didn't.

"Oh, kids," Ms. Henderson nearly moaned. "That's never true." She turned her focus on him. "Now Kanda, what do you like."

He tched, pissed that he still had to go through with this. He lifted his head and glared at the substitute teacher. "Piss off already." And turned back to his sketchpad.

Ms. Henderson was clearly appalled by his attitude. He found the way her overly mascaraed eyes widened, and how her mouth fell open dumbly, quite amusing. He forced himself to withhold the smirk that threatened to form.

"Told you," the girl continued, appearing entertained as well. "He's a real jerk."

Ms. Hedricks still looked like she wanted to defend him, but just one look into his threatening orbs caused her to shudder. She smiled weakly and addressed the rest of 'her' students. Great, he thought. Not only was she naive, she was weak. He hated those kinds of people. The little bitch was probably to used to her own perfect world to suspect she'd receive even that amount of disrespect. Kanda hoped something really bad would happen to her soon, that would teach her a lesson.

Scowling in disgust, he shrugged off his environment, retreating to the relaxing feeling of pencil against paper.

He let his pencil guide him. Hands flew across the page, filling it with pale grey lines and curves. Honestly he didn't know what he was creating, he never did. It was always the pencil, it knew what to do, and he let it do it.

Soon the page was filled with flowers of assorting sizes and species. Dew resided comfortably on the many petals of which small insects encircled. He smiled in satisfaction as he trased the many lines and added soft shadows giving them a finished look.

He had to admit that his style of art was quite feminine. He knew that it didn't fit his personality. But somehow it felt right. Like those flowers belonged to him. Much more they made him feel as if he belonged with them.

As always when he drew, the noise fell into the distance and he was left alone with his nature. The feeling was much like that of meditation. Everything around him disappeared and created, no, discovered, the black emptiness that resided within itself. That darkness would then surround him, isolate him.

The only things he could feel in that place were the shallow beatings of his own heart, and the warm air that touched his lips when he exhaled. He could think nothing there, he could be nothing. There he was nothing, he was what he wished to be.

Kanda loved the feeling to the point of despising everything that didn't bring him to it. Kanda loathed everything real and everything that pretended to be. He only found solitude in the emptiness of his own mind. He only loved that which did not exist.

The shrill ringing of a bell awoke him to reality. He grimaced and stood, throwing his heavy backpack over one shoulder. He ignored Ms. Henderson who held out a hand for him, as she did for the rest of the students, to shake as he left the room. He headed straight to his next period, history, not bothering to take a break like everyone else.

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Kanda abhorred the lunch hall. It was the epitome of everything he hated. The overcrowding of smelly students. The sickly stenches that filled the air, an abominable combination of weed and greasy foods. The mere sound itself was enough to cause him to want to burn it to the ground with everyone still trapped inside. He grinned, imagining how they would panic from the fire, and end up killing them all. For all these reasons, he vowed never to eat within the goddamned place.

So he, like always, skipped lunch, and sat at the corner of the building where nearly no one went -especially after he dubbed the place as his own- He usually didn't eat lunch, partially because the food in the cafeteria sucked, and the fact that he avoided the place like he would an epidemic, but mostly because his soba noodles had dried and stuck to each other every time he had tried to bring it to school. He never told Tiedoll that he was skipping lunch, the over-sensitive old man would freak out. He desperately wanted to avoid the man's nagging voice, it dug into his ears and made them bleed from the inside.

Kanda sat comfortably on the grass, feeling the warm summer breeze on his skin. He was about to begin meditating,when he felt several presences rapidly approaching. He irritatedly opened his eyes and glared at the fellows that dared interrupt his peace.

The man in the middle was tall, dark skinned, and very muscular. Tattoos crisscrossed his folded arms, a mocking smile on his lips. Kanda frowned, the man was clearly not a high schooler. He looked beyond the man to see a tall kid with a shit-eating grin plastered on his ugly mutt face.

Kanda scowled. He knew the boy and the many overconfident weaklings that followed behind him. They were constantly getting on his case, and ruining what little free time he had in this school. The tall kid, Derrick, had challenged Kanda to several fights, all of which Kanda had won effortlessly. The kid just didn't want to admit that he was weaker, that he wasn't Alpha male.

"Hey, bitch," Derrick called, scooting up beside the tattooed male. "Feeling confident today?" Kanda scowled and closed his eyes. He could take whatever that piece of shit decided to throw at him.

He heard a frustrated growl, not able to hide the smirk that came to his lips in response. "You want to mess with me, bitch?" Derrick sounded infuriated. He had always been easy to manipulate. "I brought my brother with me today. He's a member of the mafia. You're no match for him." Kanda continued to ignore him, the kid didn't know shit.

Another growl. "My brother's gonna tear you apart limb from limb. If you don't want to die, then beg for my forgiveness, maybe I'll spare you."

Kanda opened his eyes and stared at the kid. Fearlessly he stood up, dusting his pants. "So you've decided to apologize." The kid smirked.

Kanda grunted and stuck his hands in his pockets. "If, you don't want this muscle brained freak to get slaughtered," he began, addressing Derrick. " You, and your group of ladies better get your sorry asses the hell out of my space."

Blood rushed to his tormentors' faces, clearly pissed. He scoffed at them, mocking how ridiculous they looked.

"That's it," the brute declared, stepping up to him. "You're gonna die."

He took a casual fighting stance and edged the tattooed brute on.

The brute scowled and charged, throwing a large fist in the direction of Kanda's face. He ducked the punch and twisted, bringing both his palms to push up on the man's tattooed arm. He heard nice crack on impact, and he passively noted that he probably broke his arm.

Moving before the man had time to scream, he twisted once again and sent a single rib shattering jab to the man's solar plexus.

The strike caused the man to fall over onto his back, moaning and wailing in agony. A thin trail of blood streaming from parted lips.

Kanda grinned as he watched the man writhe in pain. He loved to see the twisted faces of humans as they trembled in affliction. Humans were pathetic, weak creatures, who constantly inflicted all sorts of punishments on others, yet, never expected to be hurt themselves. That's why he loved watching their pain, it brought him a sense of satisfaction he couldn't get from anything else. It wasn't like the pleasure of meditation, or the relief of emptiness, no this was his only temporal joy, and he longed for it. It was the joy of revenge.

He calmed his emotions, looking up at the faces of Derrick and his group. Their eyes and mouths were wide in surprise and horror, too afraid and stunned to do anything but stare at the suffering body of the tattooed fool. Kanda grunted in disgust and walked away, flicking his long hair as he went.

He only got a few paces when a sudden sharp pain tore through his shoulder. He stopped, looking down at the source of the pain, only to find that he was bleeding rapidly from a small hole. Shot. He was shot. But the gun, he didn't hear anything. He turned around.

Derrick's face was twisted. Was it anger, humiliation, sorrow? Kanda couldn't tell. A gun was held in his trembling hands, a silencer at its tip, the reason he hadn't heard the bullet come. He smirked, finally things were getting interesting.

"Are you sure you should be using that?" He asked, voice devoid of any sign of pain. "You'll regret it." He began to steadily walk forward.

Derek's eyes widened in horror, his gun shaking more rapidly.

"You can't shoot me if your gun's shaking like that," he stated, smirk growing in amusement.

"Sh-Shut up!" Kanda dodged the bullet that would've hit his stomach.

"See," Kanda said, stopping in his tracks. "If you're going to shoot someone," he pointed to his heart. "Go for the kill."

Derrick freaked out, dropping the gun onto the grass. Bad move. Kanda ran forward picking up the gun, and pressed it to Derrick's head. His lackeys screamed, running off. He frowned, if they ran off they'd definitely tell someone, he couldn't have that.  
"Wait," he called. "If you go I'll blow this kids brains out."

They all stopped, horrified. Some of them fell down to their knees and begged for him to spare their lives, Not their leader's, their own. He scowled. Filthy creatures, they only made him want to kill them more.

He frowned, suppressing the emotion, and handed the gun back to Derrick, who had thoroughly soaked his pants. "Use it when you really know how," he said walking away. "Oh," he turned back. "And don't you dare report this incident, unless you want to go to jail. I didn't do anything wrong, it was my own self defense." He smirked. "If I get the feeling that your thinking of telling anyone, I'll kill you." He glared at the group for a moment to emphasize his point.

Kanda groaned angrily when the sound of a bell ringing tore through his ears. "Damn," he swore. Those stupid fucks ruined his free time.

* * *

 **Okay, so you're probably wondering why Kanda isn't with the Black Order, there is a simple reason for that. I wanted to write this story from several different perspectives. Opposing Mafias, 'innocent' bystanders, people who know more than they should, and more. It wouldn't be as fun (in my opinion) if every one was already a member of mafia from the start.**

 **I chose Lenalee to be a member of the mafia because, well... I just thought she'd look really cool as an assassin. I have no better reason. But I do have an excuse for Kanda. Tiedoll looks to me like a very devout man, and I can't see him as a member of the mafia. I know that Mafiosos did at times attend church, but I still just don't see Tiedoll as a murderer, he'd never make it to general.**

 **Also, Kanda does have connections to the Black Order, he's just not a member. (Yet, maybe... probably)**

 **Thanks for reading and Please Review.**


	4. Chapter 4: Lavi

**Hey guys... Really sorry for the long wait. I've been trying to update every Friday, and I finished this chapter a long time ago, but I completely forgot to post two weeks ago... Oops... And then I went on my music tour, which took up all of last week so I had no time to update. Really sorry...**

 **Quick comment about the last chapter. In case anyone is wondering, Daisya is 19, almost 20, and should be in college, but the kid didn't take his education seriously enough, and got held back. Oh well... He's a high school senior just like Kanda and Lavi.**

 **Oh, and instead of posting the 5th chapter next week I'm going to be redoing the first. It just wasn't cutting it.**

 **Well, here you go. Hope you enjoy it, and please review.**

* * *

Lavi

Bookman Junior took pride in both his heritage and business. He strove to fulfill every responsibility he was given, and never disappointed. He harbored no bias, all things were equal. He knew this with ever being of him. Yet, somehow, as he stood before the main location of his new mission, something in his chest sunk.

Putting on the mask of _Lavi_ , his personage, he trodded gleefully to the doors of the large, but unappealing, building. The doors were wide open and many youth - he smiled, correcting himself - _teenagers_ , flooded in and out.

The moment he entered the school he regretted not holding his breath. The place reeked. Of what, he wasn't exactly sure. His mask smiled, acting as if nothing was wrong. The smell was something he would get used to, and, judging from the non-disgusted faces of the students, he assumed they already had. He wondered if they could even notice it anymore.

Lavi scanned the hallway, eyes settling on a short girl with dyed neon pink hair. He grinned and strode over to her through the loud crowd.

"Um..." he started, sheepishly rubbing his head. The girl looked up at him, striking green eyes widening. The poor girl's cheeks nearly as pink as her hair. "I'm new here, and..." he pause, and avoided eye contact. "It looks like a bit lost... Can you help me?"

Se nodded her head much to rapidly. "Of course! Where do you need to go?"

Grinning he checked the paper schedule in his hand. "Mrs. Rox's computer class."

She beamed, gesturing for him to follow. "I can take you there. It's actually not that far."

"Really?"

"Yup. Just around the corner."

He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. "Man, now I feel like an idiot."

She giggled. "That's fine. You're new here, and this _is_ a pretty big school." He joined in her laughter. "I'm Iris."

"Lavi. Nice to meet you."

She blushed in return to the smile he gave her. "You too."

Iris walked quickly, each footfall surprisingly soft, she was probably quite light as well as small. Her movements lacked much grace, though they still remained feminine, and her left arm swung with a far wider range than her right. Left handed? Does she play a sport to go along with that. Looking closer he spotted several large calluses on said hand, their locations indicating that it was probably from holding a ball, most likely a baseball. So she was a pitcher, huh...

She winded him through the blockades of students - who were pack like sardines. Bookman Junior almost wanted to pop out and yell at them all to go to class or something.

Truthfully he didn't need the directions. He'd already memorized the entire school building, as well as all the teachers and their classes. But this was a good opportunity to get to know someone, and to make himself known to others. Lavi could not be hid. Plus, he chuckled to himself, he doubted Lavi would bother to have memorised the information anyway.

Iris stopped abruptly in front of a pair of doors he recognised as his destination. "Here you are," she stated, opening the door.

"Thanks."

"Hope you have a good day. Mrs. Ross is really great."

"You too. I hope to see you again."

She blushed furiously and looked at her feet. "Yeah... See you later."

Grinning, he shut the door behind him.

The class room was fairly empty, only a couple students occupying the seats, all of which were playing video games on the computers in front of them. He strode lightly over to Mrs. Ross, who was also at a computer, appearing to be researching something. Mrs. Ross had graying hair, and appeared to be in her fifties or so, an unusual age for a computer teacher. As he got closer he glanced at the screen, noticing the topic of research to be about tropical birds. Are birds an interest of hers?

"Hey." He beamed, calling the teacher's attention.

Her eyes widened in curiosity, before beaming in recognition. "Lavi, am I right?"

"Yup. The one and only."

She chuckled. "It's nice to meet you, Lavi, the 'one and only'. And, welcome to the class, I'm Mrs. Ross." She extended her hand for him to shake, he took it.

Lavi realized he quite liked her smile, it was warm and comforting, like that of a grandmother's. "Do you need something?" She asked, passing him a Werther's, which he also accepting, unwrapping it and popping it in his mouth.

"Nah, not really. I kinda just wanted to meet ya' before class started."

"Oh, my, well that's quite professional of you." She chuckled. "All the best business men meet their bosses or associates early on, it gives them a head start." She winked. "Keep up that habit."

Lavi blushed. "Thanks... I will." He hadn't expected someone to catch on to that. Oh, well, minor technicalities.

"So," he pointed to the screen. "Like birds?"

Her eyes twinkled. "Quite a bit. But I'm not doing this research for me... Well, not exactly. It's for my son, he's heading out to the Amazon in about four months to research it's snakes -he's quite the adventurous fellow. And I'd thought that maybe he'd appreciate knowing a bit about the other wildlife he'd see there. I'm going to compile a book about them. With complementary drawings of each kind."

Lavi's eyes widened. " Do you draw too?" He already knew the answer, she taught an advanced and intermediate animal drawing classes.

"Yeah. I teach art too. Mainly about animals. My people aren't too great."

"That's so cool! You're pretty accomplished ain't ya'!"

"Well, I don't know." She chuckled. "My children have done a lot more than I have. And I'm sure you will too."

"Nah," he brushed her off. "I can do the logical stuff, but that all goes to shit if I ain't got any creativity, like I don't."

She laughed out loud. " You're a pretty clever kid, aren't you! Though you'd a lot better without the language. You'll get somewhere. I swear. And if you need, I'd love to help you get there. Maybe I could push your creative side a bit."

He smiled warmly, playing with the Werther's in his mouth. "That'd be great. Thanks."

"My pleasure." She looked down out her watch. "Oops, it looks like class is about to start. You better sit down. Take any seat you wish. There isn't any seating arrangement."

"Thanks. Sorry to take up your time."

"Oh, that's fine sweetheart. I like a good kid like you."

"Thanks."

* * *

Lavi surprised himself by how much he'd enjoyed school so far. The place reeked like shit, futile posters were everywhere, and frankly, students were a little _more_ than rebellious. It was the opposite of everything he'd been raised in, and it disgusted him. But something inside him was jumping in excitement. He'd enjoyed talking with the students and teachers, all of which were quite accepting of him. And the lessons - though he already knew everything- somehow entertained him. Perhaps it was because schools, beaten and tainted though this one might be, was a place of learning and growth. The kind of place he adored.

The day thus far had been wonderful, and he fully expected lunch to be the same, after all _Lavi_ liked his breaks. Lunch was the prime time to meet and make friends, as well as the perfect place for gossip. He doubted he'd hear much the first week or so, they'd need to get a little more comfortable with him first. Thankfully, Lavi was the image of friendly. His personage was _Lavi_ for a reason.

He scanned the room, looking for a good place to sit. In the hierarchy of high school - a pitiful thing if you asked Junior- he was aiming for the nobles, the group just a bit higher than middle ground, but not too high. Aim to far ahead and his plan would crash. He had to start lower, then work his way up. Lavi was already a cool enough guy, he bet he could make it up there without too much trouble.

He soon found his spot. The students at the table - to any other- appeared just like the others. They talked in the same boisterous manner, acting just as disrespectfully, and dressed just as outrageously, many of them even sneaking a few whiffs of weed. But Lavi could see the difference. It was subtle, but there, the way they held up their heads just a little higher, fingers pointed just a little straighter, and the glimmer in their eyes, though just as sickening and hurt, was just a little more mocking and confident. They were who he wanted. The problem was getting in.

Silently, he memorised their features. There were 14 of them at the table of his choice, probably more would join.

He knew what he had to do first. He needed to make an impression on them.

He swerved and made his way to the door that lead outside, to the basketball court. Eight kids were playing an informal game, one watching, acting as a referee. They all appeared high 'ranking'. Mostly 'nobles', and very few 'royals', he expected that. They were mainly the football players and cheerleaders. The _jocks_ per say, though some basketball players were jocks too.

Smiling he strode up to one of them during one of their short breaks, a tall black kid with shaved hair. The kid was quite muscular, though he was really skinny, almost like a stick. The kids shoes were new looking and expensive, but under a Bookman's gaze it was clear that the pair was already several years old. The kid loved his sport.

"Hey, yo." Lavi beamed, distracting the kid from his ball.

The kid eyed him suspiciously, brown portraying a bit of irritation. "Who're you?"

"Lavi. I'm new here. What about you?"

"Jim." He scanned Lavi. "Can you play?" Lavi grinned, knowing that he must've been evaluated as 'worthy' to Jim. Whatever that meant.  
"Yup." He made a small pinching motion with his fingers. "Played it since I was this tall."

He wasn't entirely lying. Bookman had made it a priority to have him engage in various kinds of physical activity, including sports, 'just in case' _._ Basketball just happened to not only be the sport he was best at, but also his - meaning Junior's - favorite, though he _was good_ at all of them.

Jim grinned. "We have room for another." He turned his head over to the side and called to the grass field. "Larry! We got another player! Come back in!"

"Got it!" Some one, he assumed it was Larry, called back.

Jim gathered the rest of the players, who all stared, evaluating Lavi. Jim gestured to him. "This is Lavi. He's new to our school so don't be too hard on him. He says he plays, lets see that in action." They all nodded. He turned his attention to Lavi. "Hey, Lavi, we weren't playing a real game before, cause we didn't have enough people. This one's real, understand?"

Suddenly his blood began to rush in excitement. He hadn't played a game with another person for a long time, and his body was craving the thrill of a challenge. And this one was serious, it likely determined his entire fate in this school. He he failed to meet Jim's standards there was no way he was going to be accepted by the 'nobles' or higher. This game would be worth the long wait. Lavi clapped and rubbed his hands. "Yeah, I do."

Jim smiled. "We'll then, let's get started."

"Yeah!" They cheered.

"Take the front, Lavi. You'll be on my team." Lavi nodded. "Ready when you are, Kyle." He said, addressing the referee.

Kyle blew the whistle and the game began like a flash of lightning. Jim, who had the ball, took off in the direction of the enemy hoop. He shifted and swerved expertly through the line of enemy team players. Lavi hardly realized the man had reached the hoop, too in awe with his speed. He jumped, and Lavi was sure he'd make it when another player, a blond boy with tan skin and really short hair, blocked him pushing the ball out of his hand. The ball didn't have a chance to touch the ground, the opposite team quickly seizing it and dribbling it quickly his team's way, dark brown hair slapping in the wind.

Lavi laughed sharply. He hadn't even moved but his heart was burning with more adrenaline and joy than he could hardly remember. He short forward to the boy, but the kid spotted him, and maneuvered to the left. Lavi only picked up his speed, quickly gaining on the sprinting teenager. In the corner of his perceptive eyes he caught an opposing team member run for him trying to block him.

Hastily, he pivoted, and ran towards his basketball hoop. He picked up his speed still, racing to beat the kid with the ball.

The kid with the ball's eyes widened, but he was to close to his goal to pass. Sucking it up he bit his lip, and jumped despite knowing he would fail. Lavi ticked his tongue. It would have been wiser to let the goal go, and keep the ball. He jumped behind the boy and tapped the ball with his fingers, causing it to fly away and drop onto the cement.

One of his teammates took the ball and dribbled it once again to the other side. He passed the ball to Jim, who shot it from just beyond the midpoint, nailing it in the center of the hoop. Lavi cheered.

God, he was having the time of his life.

* * *

By the end of the game Lavi had nearly forgotten what it was like to breath easy. He was panting like crazy, and cold sweat rained from aching body. He felt like shit. He could barely do more than lay on the dirty cement court. But boy, how satisfied he was. His team had won by only five points, but thinking about it he realized the win didn't really matter, despite how much they fought for it. Everyone was laughing, losing side included, and they all felt like dying too.

"My god, that was great." He wheezed. "It's been to long."

They laughed. "You know Lavi," one of them, a tan, muscular kid named Gabe, commented. "When I first saw you, well, you kinda looked scrawny to me, I didn't want you to play. But what Jim says goes, so I begrudgingly let you. Just want you to know that I don't think you're scrawny anymore."

He laughed. "Well thanks... I guess."

"Um... Guys..." Kyle interjected. "I don't mean to sink your boats, but class was supposed to have started eighteen minutes ago. I don't want my grades to drop again. Well, not that it matters now, we're already late."

Lavi shot into sitting position with a strength he didn't know he still had. "Shit! It's only my first day of school! My teacher's gonna hate me!"

Hearty laughter erupted from the boys, causing a "solemn" blush to form on his smelly face. "It's a serious problem," he mumbled.

Jim sat up. "You better get to class then. It was nice playing with you. You should join again sometime."

"I'd love to," he smiled, eyes glowing with renewed mirth.

"We meet every lunch here on the court. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks." He got up and ran painfully to class. "See you."

By the time he reached his class he wished he had at least washed his face, he doubted he looked that great, and the reason for his absence was as clear as glass.

Mr. Rogers was his history teacher, a subject he'd surely excel in - he'd very well excel in the others as well, but this was his specialty - yet, from the look on his teacher's face, he almost literally saw terrible report cards, various flashes of red F's, D's, and, C's, tainted his brain. He doubted he could even make it to a pitiful B. Bookman would kill him. He was so so dead.

"Um... Hi?" He stated awkwardly.

The room was completely silent. He looked at the faces of his peers. Some of them held mocking and anticipating gazes, while others showed pity or fear, and a fair amount were just avoiding the scene entirely. Perhaps he was in deeper shit than he thought.

"Lavi Bookman. Am I correct?" It certainly sounded like a simple question, but the way those brown eyes bore into him made it feel more like an interrogation, as if he was just daring him to say something wrong. It wasn't as intimidating as Bookman's when he was pissed or particularly serious, but Lavi still didn't want to mess with him.

"Yes."

" May I inquire as to why you were late?" Gosh, this guy even talked like Bookman, addressing all his jabs as questions.

"I lost track of time," he answered, surprised by his own steady voice. Bookman trained him well. "I was playing basketball."

Mr. Rogers seemed to be analyzing him, taking the moment of silence to the extremes. Lavi felt like his heart was going to burst with anticipation. "Aren't you aware that your education determines your life."

"Yes."

"And you know that life comes like a thief in the night?"

"Yes."

"Then what about your future?"

"Huh?"

"When you get a job do you expect to arrive late and brush it off to your boss as ' _I lost track of time'_?"

Lavi's heart sank. He knew this, what was he doing, forgetting? A Bookman was never late, a Bookman never made excuses. A Bookman wore fate and the future on the sleeves, their job was to prepared for anything and everything and capture it in all of eternity. Yet he lost all this for a game of Basketball. His mind had begun in the right place, what changed? Why had he messed up? What the hell was he thinking? "No, I don't"

"We'll then, if you have these terrible habits when you're young do you think it will suddenly change when you enter college and the work field?"

"No, I don't sir."

"Then I have to wonder why you were late. A person with knowledge must live with the consequences of it, and bear it. They have no excuse for ignoring or forgetting it."  
Another jab to his heart. The fuck was he doing? He knew all this! The fuck?! He was a Bookman for goddamn sake! "Yes," he spoke, biting his cheek. "I know."

"Then I expect you to be on time at worst in the future. A successful man is always early."

"Got it."

"Sit down. There isn't a seating arrangement. Choose any place you wish." And so he did.

Bookman Junior found that it was difficult to his personage of Lavi the rest of the day. His mask kinda sucked, he realized pitifully. A Bookman, he though, noting his own weakness, always had their ears open. They listened to everything and learned, but they never let it affect them like this. If nothing else, he assumed Bookman must've sent him here to discover his own weaknesses and fix them. And he was a lot weaker than he thought. He'd have to change.

* * *

 **Quick comment, I know ya' all realize that it's really hard to get a high 'ranking' per say in the high school hierarchy, and Lavi finding it easy may seem a little unrealistic. So here's this note for those of you who think so.**

 **High rankings in the hierarchy are occupied by people with looks, money, great sports ability, and once in a while, knowledge and humor. Lavi has all of these traits. He's tall, really handsome, muscular, kinda wealthy (though they don't know that), he's great at basketball and a whole bunch of other sports, and is over all pretty strong (not as strong as Kanda though). He's also perfect in like every subject, a great comedian, easy going, friendly, accepting (a thing every high school kid wants to feel),he's like the perfect guy. There's no way he wouldn't make it up there abnormally quickly. Of course, that doesn't mean every one has to like him. Which they won't.**

 **That's it. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. And remember to review.  
**


	5. Chapter 5: Sorry

**Hey, I'm really sorry. I've always hated it when people do this, but well, it needs to be done.**

 **So, I kinda just started this story on a whim. It was just for fun and I wasn't really all that serious about it.**

 **Which means I didn't know where I wanted it to go. I had no inspiration.**

 **But then I came up with a new story idea, and I thought about it, and developed it, and I'm serious about it.  
**

 **So sadly, for the sake of that fan fiction, and my own mind, I have to put this one on hiatus.**

 **It's only temporary, and though I don't know how long it'll take, I fully plan to pick it up again, this time with purpose.**

 **When I continue, I'll probably rewrite everything, so it might be completely different.**

 **I'll give some kind of sign on either my other fanfic or my profile when I plan to continue.  
**

 **Thank you so much for reading.**

 **And see you again.**

 _ **OakPrincess**_


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